


Valentine

by starstruck1986



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 10:10:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6002050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starstruck1986/pseuds/starstruck1986
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neither of them sent flowers to the other, but they have a mystery Valentine. Only, it's not as simple as that, and neither of them know how deep it goes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Valentine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [slu64](https://archiveofourown.org/users/slu64/gifts).



> Happy Birthday to my fandom BFF. Love you lots.
> 
> Warnings: Muchos angst, language, anal sex, desired threesome.

**Severus**  
  
“What on earth do you think you're playing at?!” Severus demanded, slamming the front door behind him.  
  
Harry immediately appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, mouth open around an iced doughnut. He was frowning in question because he was unable to raise it verbally. As Severus neared he saw that Harry had icing smeared around his lips.  
  
“I didn't appreciate your... gift.” Severus fought off a shiver as he recalled the memory of being presented with a ridiculously large and bright bunch of flowers in the middle of his office. “Do you have any idea how mortifying that was?”  
  
Harry's frown deepened and he quickly began to chew in order to retaliate, but Severus found he actually didn't want to give the brunet time to defend himself.  
  
“No, you know what? I should have expected something like this. I told you that I wouldn't tolerate foolishness and time and time again you insist on forcing it on me. I've had enough, Harry. I told you this wouldn't work. If you're content to make an idiot out of me in front of my colleagues, then-”  
“Wait a fucking minute!” Harry finally managed to get out. “What flowers?”  
“Oh, yes. Play the dunce. Very nice, Harry.”  
“No, seriously – what flowers?”  
“You eat like a child,” Severus informed him coldly, using his finger to gesture around his mouth. “I think we need to talk, Harry.”  
  
Harry stared at him, Severus could tell he was slowly running his tongue around his teeth to clear out the last remnants of the icing in his mouth whilst he thought about what to say.  
  
He could read Harry like a book. He'd thought that Harry had similar talents regarding his own thoughts, but clearly not if he'd thought the stunt with the flowers had been a good idea.  
  
“You can bloody talk,” Harry said finally, folding his arms over his chest. “I didn't find it very funny either, Severus.”  
  
Caught off guard, Severus let his mouth hang open.  
  
“Yeah, see? I didn't very much enjoy a bloody singing Valentine with flowers bigger than I ever managed to buy all of my girlfriends combined.”  
“That wouldn't be hard, though, you only had two,” Severus replied before he could bite his tongue.  
  
Harry's eyes narrowed. Severus followed the line of his suddenly extended finger to the kitchen table, where there stood an identically large and garish bouquet to the one Severus had received at work.  
  
“I didn't send that,” he said automatically. “Not in a million years.”  
“Sure about that? I know you get a kick out of laughing at me, Severus, but I do have a professional reputation to uphold.”  
“Says the man who has desk chair races down the corridors of the Ministry when it's quiet.”  
“Oh, shut up.” Harry shook his head. “I can't believe you did it, Severus.”  
“I didn't!” He protested angrily. “I had nothing to do with these.”  
  
He reached out and touched his fingers to the petals of a rose.  
  
“They're exactly the same as the ones I received.” Severus snatched the note off the table. “And the card said exactly this.”  
“Really?”  
  
Finally Harry's curiosity seemed to outweigh his grumpiness. He took the card from Severus and read it again.  
  
“Weird.”  
“Very.” Severus sighed and let his head fall forward. It had been a long day and not only because of the anger which had sustained him since he received the flowers. In the middle of a meeting.  
  
He let out a little moan as Harry put his fingers to work massaging his shoulders.  
  
“Did you really think I'd do that to you?” he whispered dejectedly.  
“Well... I did wonder if you'd perhaps had a psychotic break,” Severus admitted. “It wasn't like you. But I got angry and...”  
“You take all opportunities to think the worst of me,” Harry supplied unhelpfully.  
“That isn't fair, Harry.”  
“No, I know it's not, but you just hollered at me for no reason and you ruined my doughnut.”  
  
Severus snorted to himself and reached up to rub the back of his neck.  
  
“What do you want for dinner?” Harry asked, dropping his hands to Severus' waist and kissing his shoulder. “I've got some steaks which need using up. I can make us dinner and we can not eat it romantically in the living room on our laps?”  
“Happy Valentine's Day,” Severus muttered dryly.  
“I asked you if you wanted to do something nice tonight and you bit my head off!”  
“You asked me when I was half asleep, what did you expect?”  
  
Harry hummed his acknowledgement that this had been a stupid idea and moved around to look at the flowers again.  
  
“So... who's sending us both identical flashy flowers then?”  
“No idea. I'll throttle them if I ever meet them, though. You should have seen the look on their faces, Harry. They were just so... disbelieving.”  
“So?”  
“Remember I am unlovable and unattractive, Harry.”  
“Not to me.”  
“Thank Merlin.” Severus pinched the bridge of his nose.  
  
Again Harry approached from behind and wrapped his arms around Severus' waist. He squeezed tightly.  
  
“You know what, let's do it.” Severus straightened decisively.  
“Do what?”  
“Have a romantic dinner. Candles. Wine. A tablecloth.”  
“A tablecloth is romantic?”  
“More romantic than five old copies of _The Potioneer_ and all your Quidditch rubbish.”  
  
He waited to see if Harry would let that dig slide and he did. Severus smiled to himself.  
  
“Okay. I'll get cooking. You set the table and for the love of god, go and buy some wine. Oh, and a tablecloth while you're at it.”  
  
***  
  
“Now I'm reminded why I keep you,” Severus said. He swallowed some more wine and toasted Harry with the glass.  
“Keep me?” Harry questioned through gritted teeth.  
“Oh, hush, you know that's my attempt at humour. I've had a lot of wine.”  
  
Harry broke into a thoroughly dashing smile and Severus had to force himself to look away – to act like it hadn't just shot through to his core. There were plenty of moments in a day that made him question his decision to be with The Boy Who Lived. Very few people bar those very close to them understood their relationship and it was hard work to either justify it or tell people exactly why it was none of their business.  
  
But those smiles reminded Severus of why he did it. Keeping hold of his glass, he tried to gracefully lift his leg beneath the table and rub his toes up Harry's shin. Too much wine meant that he didn't achieve quite the poise he'd hoped for, but Harry blushed slightly in his cheeks when Severus met his end goal, and that was enough.  
  
“Is this the way to get sex from you? Feed you and get you drunk?”  
“It's worked before.” Severus polished off the last of his glass and reached for the bottle. “Oh. It's empty.”  
“You look like someone's just killed your cat.”  
“If anybody touches my cat I'll kill _them._ ”  
“Yes. I think you love her more than you love me.”  
“I love nothing more than I love you.”  
“Well... that's the first time you've said that.”  
  
Severus narrowed his eyes and glared at Harry. “You tricked me into saying that, Potter.”  
“Like it's not true.” Harry snorted and shook his head. “If I have to trick you into admitting the truth, then that's on you, Severus, and not me. At least I have the balls to say what I feel.”  
“Oh, really? Where were those balls when you were harbouring an unrequited love for your best friend?”  
“Leave Ron out of it.”  
“Well, If you're going to sit there and say I don't possess the ability to face the truth, then I have no problem in reminding you of a time when you couldn't either.”  
“It wasn't as easy as that. It was... complicated.”  
“Everything is complicated, Harry.”  
  
Severus pushed his chair back. “More wine?”  
“Should you have more?”  
“I'm a big boy, Harry, I think I can decide when I've had enough wine.” He got to his feet and had to steady himself on the table. “Or so I thought.”  
  
Harry laughed at him as he turned away for the other wine bottle. Severus took a moment to compose himself with a few deep breaths. Even after months, the prospect of taking Harry to bed was something he had to mentally prepare himself for. In all honesty he wasn't over the shock that Harry would even want to have sex with him.  
  
He counted himself as a very lucky man.  
  
Wine bottle in hand, he turned with the idea of suggesting they retreat to the bedroom, but the doorbell rang, shrill and unwanted, and stopped him in his tracks.  
  
“Who on earth is that at this time of night?” He frowned down the hallway, hoping the expression marred the extreme disappointment.  
“Dunno, but they really want to get in,” Harry said, easing out of his seat and heading for the hallway as the doorbell was rung over and over again.  
  
His fingers grazed over Severus' hip as he passed and he looked over his shoulder with a smile.  
  
“You do coy very well,” Severus advised.  
  
Harry was laughing as he unlocked the front door and pulled it open.  
  
“Ron?”  
  
Severus felt he might as well pour the wine down the sink then and there. He couldn't hear what Ron was saying, but he could tell from the low tone that it wasn't meant for his ears anyway. Begrudgingly he turned away, put the wine down and began collecting up their plates. By the time he was running the washing up water he could hear the conversation louder in the hallway and the sound of the front door shutting.  
  
“Just make yourself at home,” Harry said as he walked into the kitchen and pushed the door to.  
  
He didn't speak immediately and Severus waited, busying himself by plunging his hands into the hot water. The silence stretched on so long that he began to grow irritated.  
  
“Well?” he spat finally.  
“He's in bits. He won't tell me why. Just that he needs to be with someone tonight.”  
  
Severus bit hard into his tongue. It was his quick temper that Harry hated. Perhaps they could still salvage the night if he didn't ruin it by being mouthy.  
  
“Do you mind if he stays in the spare room?”  
  
He did, greatly, but again he kept his mouth shut.  
  
It wasn't that he didn't like Ron. He had accepted that with Harry came his best friends. But he didn't usually like to invite them into his own home and have them stay. He preferred their interaction to stay at a maximum of three hours. That was about as long as he could keep his true personality hidden. Harry had told him not to bother but there was something about Ron which put him on edge – probably the fact that Harry, no matter what he said, would always be a tiny bit in love with the redhead.  
  
“No, of course not. If he needs it, he's welcome to it.”  
“Really?”  
“Harry, do you expect me to toss him out on the street? It's February. I'm not _that_ cruel.”  
“I'm not saying you are, I just know how you feel about privacy. Some days, I'm surprised you even let me live here.”  
“It's a continual challenge,” Severus muttered under his breath.  
  
Harry hesitated before pulling the kitchen door open again. “Thank you, Severus.”  
“It's your house too.”  
“I know. But still.”  
  
He concentrated on washing up as he heard renewed conversation from their sitting room. He tried to focus on keeping his mind clear; the last thing he wanted was for his anger to cloud his mind and to say something which would both hurt and chase Harry out of the house.  
  
Severus was tipping the water away again by the time he heard anything clearly.  
  
“Are you sure you'll be all right?”  
  
Ron's answer was short and low. Severus then heard him mounting the stairs and a few moments later Harry re-entered the kitchen.  
  
“Something is seriously wrong with him,” he announced worriedly. “I've never seen him so...”  
“So what?  
“Low.”  
  
Severus dried his hands on a tea towel and turned around to meet Harry's worried eyes.  
  
“How low are we talking?”  
“Low enough that I'm not sure about leaving him alone.”  
“Then why are you?”  
“I didn't want to leave you alone either.”  
“As I said before, I'm a big boy and I can look after myself – if you think Ron needs you, then go and be with him. I'll tidy up and go to bed.”  
“Yeah, but I wanted to go to bed with you,” Harry whined.  
“Well you're the one that invited him in.”  
“Because I love him and he's my best friend.”  
  
Severus couldn't help but raise his eyebrows at that.  
  
“I mean, he's my best friend and I love him because he's my best friend.”  
“You love him because you love him, Harry. I'm not blind.”  
“Severus, who do I live with? Whose dirty socks do I pick up off the floor because he's surprisingly slobbish?”  
“I am not!”  
“Yeah, you are, and you know it so shut your face, Severus.”  
“You did not tell me to 'shut my face'. Are you twelve?”  
  
Harry made an unflattering face as he made fun of Severus' tone.  
  
“I'm reducing my statement; now you're around six.”  
“I can't remember being six,” Harry said morosely. “Probably blocked it out. The Dursleys always refused to celebrate my birthdays.”  
“My father acted like mine never happened, too. So he could justify spending all of his wages in the local rather than buying me any form of gift.”  
“You're just a walking tragedy, aren't you?” Harry rolled his eyes.  
“You're not far behind me, orphan.”  
“I suppose that's why this works.”  
“Two drama queens together.”  
“Speak for yourself, madam.”  
  
Harry grinned at him and somewhere in the region of his knees Severus went weak.  
  
“Go and be with Ron,” he said finally. “At least find out what's happened. I won't wait up.”  
  
He was taken by surprised as Harry sprang forward and kissed him. Gentle fingers tucked hair behind Severus' ear.  
  
“I love you.” The words were a whisper but they could have been screamed for all Severus knew.  
“Mmm. I love you too.”  
  
***  
Despite saying that he wouldn't wait up, Severus hadn't banked on becoming so embroiled in his book and scaring himself senseless. The creaking of the wood made him jump as he started up the stairs. He swore at himself and carried on, looking forward to the comfort of their bed and a long night's sleep.  
  
As he reached the landing, his eyes were drawn by the light spilling from the second bedroom where the door stood ajar. He paused by it and peeked in but immediately wished he hadn't. Harry was asleep on the spare bed, his arm around Ron's midriff. They both faced the door. They both looked at peace. Severus' pulse began to thud in his ears. Harry's grip on Ron looked possessive.  
  
There was no strength of platonic friendship in the world which would make Severus okay with what he was seeing. Harry was essentially wrapped around another man. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, heading for the bed. He reached out and touched Harry's shoulder but he didn't stir. Ron did, however.  
  
“Severus.”  
  
Ronald Weasley's eyes were jewel coloured – so bright that one could not help but look at them. In fact, they were as bright as sapphires as Harry's emeralds.  
  
“Don't,” Ron begged suddenly. “Don't take this from me.”  
“Take what?”  
“Him. From me. Not for tonight. It's all I want. A few hours. And then I'll fuck off out of your life forever. You'll never see me again. I just need to feel him. Smell him. Please?”  
  
Severus was conflicted. He wanted to rip Harry away but at the same time understood the longing in Ron's expression and didn't want to deny him the comfort.  
  
“Did you tell him how you feel?” Severus whispered.  
  
When it came to it, he didn't know how Harry would choose if given the opportunity between himself and Ron. They'd connected as Harry began to get over Ron and his infatuation with his best friend.  
  
“No, I promise you I didn't say a word.”  
  
Severus huffed hard through his nose. “I can't leave him. I'm sorry. I can't. He means too much.”  
  
For a minute he thought Ron was going to ignore him, but eventually the redhead sighed and closed his eyes in defeat.  
  
“Fine. Take him. I missed my chance.”  
“You did,” Severus confirmed quietly.  
  


* * *

  
  
 **Ron**  
  
It was early. Neither of them knew that he was awake – Ron barely knew that himself. He was so exhausted that he'd been intending on going straight back to bed, but that was before he'd seen that their bedroom door was open and heard the soft panting from within.  
  
His heart had broken quite literally when Severus had lifted Harry into his arms and carried him from the bedroom. Ron had never felt more alone than he had at that moment. Only the need for the loo had dragged him from the bed he'd been happy never to leave.  
  
He wasn't even breathing as he knelt there, watching them through the crack in the door like a pervert. They were _beautiful_. Harry more than Severus, but together they were were enigmatic – all dark bobbing heads and lithe, thin bodies, moving as one under the duvet.  
  
Ron knew it was wrong to watch them, but he couldn't stop. One of them was making the most delicious mewling sound somewhere in the back of his throat.  
  
“Harry...”  
  
it was breathy and quiet but he heard every syllable. It was how he'd imagined calling Harry's name himself.  
  
He did that a lot.  
  
Ron had been completely shitfaced when he'd ordered the two identical bouquets to be delivered to Harry and Severus. It had been hard to keep a straight face when Harry had received his smack bang in the middle of the Auror offices. His cheeks had glowed with embarrassment.  
  
He didn't even really know what his intention had been. It certainly wasn't to humiliate either of them but it seemed he had done so. And Severus had taken Harry away from him that night as easily as Harry had walked away from him.  
  
Ron knew about Harry's feelings for him. He'd just been too scared to act on them at the time. And then it was too late, and he'd moved on, and Ron was left alone.  
  
And he was reduced to watching two people have sex through a tiny gap in an open door.  
  
The duvet slipped from Severus' shoulders and fell right down to just beneath his buttocks. Ron could see Harry flattened to the bed, his legs bent up and hooked over Severus' shoulders. But he could see a whole lot more of Severus, who was gently rocking his hips back and forth into Harry's body. A soft sucking sound denoted the exact moment that his cock slid home into Harry and Ron bit back a moan when he realised what it was. Harry started to groan, a constant repetition of a few small words, his head tilted back, hair off his face. His skin was flushed pink.  
  
“Fuck,” Ron whispered desperately to himself. He reached down and squeezed himself through his pants.  
  
He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steady his breathing and to hold onto control – because really, he was ready to come without a second's notice. He was seeing something he had fantasised about night after night, and it was even better than his poor imagination had ever drummed up.  
  
In doing it, he missed the brief glance that Severus gave in his direction. When he opened his eyes again Severus' face was buried in Harry's throat, chewing on it hard enough to make Harry cry out.  
  
His mouth went dry as Severus began to properly pound into Harry, causing the duvet to fall off them both completely. He could see the muscles in Severus' thighs ripple as he moved. He could see the strain in his feet as they clawed for traction on the mattress. Looking up, Harry's own toes were alternating between curled and splaying with each thrust into his body. Ron suddenly felt very dizzy and utterly filthy, spying on the pair of them making love.  
  
And it _was_ making love. There was no doubt about that. They were glued together, almost as one, and for the first time Ron realised he was seeing that they truly loved one another.  
  
And that, quite frankly, made him want to die. He didn't know what he'd been hoping for – that perhaps he'd see that things weren't so perfect between the pair of them. That maybe there'd be room for him to get a foot in the door and pull Harry away from the older wizard.  
  
Looking at them now, he knew there was no chance of that whatsoever.  
  
Suddenly, he didn't feel like coming any more. With nausea spreading through his body, he began to back away from his peep hole and found that his limbs were sluggish and unable to properly work. He felt the pain as his shoulder slammed into something but he ignored it and carried on, feeling his way back to the room which Harry had given him for the night.  
  
He wanted to run but he didn't feel well enough to even make it to the front door. So when he found the spare room, he closed the door as gently as he could and cast all the locking spells he could think of on the wood. The spells were sloppy and it exhausted him further to perform them without his wand in hand, but that was something he had excelled in after the war – wandless magic. He had even been privileged to visit Uagadou and take instruction for a few weeks there once the Ministry had seen quite how much his skills had come on whilst he'd been an Auror.  
  
And it had been there, in that strange foreign school in the mountains, that he'd had his first sexual encounter with another man, and that had been the end of everything as he'd known it.  
  
Ron slumped into the bed and pulled the duvet right up over his head. He clenched it so hard that he made his fingers ache.  
  
He could still hear Harry's cries from the room next door.  
  


* * *

  
  
 **Harry**  
  
It was late morning when he woke again, feeling sated and warm with an ache in his backside and in his thighs. Severus was next to him, sound asleep, and the house seemed still.  
  
It took a moment before he remembered that Ron was in their spare room. Harry winced remembering all the noise he'd made that morning when Severus had accosted him whilst dawn filtered through the window. He hoped Ron hadn't heard any of it.  
  
He remembered lying on the spare bed next to his friend, so sure that he was close to getting out of Ron whatever it was that was hurting him. But Ron had closed off just at the last moment and, for want of no other clue on how to help him, Harry had told him to roll over, close his eyes and he would stay with him. He didn't know if Ron had been awake when he'd made the decision to embrace him as they lay there. He must have fallen asleep, as the next thing he knew, he was in his own bed and Severus was coming on to him.  
  
 _Oh god. That means he must have found me with Ron._  
  
Moaning in embarrassment, Harry reached up to rub at his eyes. The room was blurred without his glasses.  
  
“Harry?” Severus' voice was raspy, like it always was on first waking.  
“M'here,” he mumbled, rolling onto his side to face Severus.  
  
Severus' face was already worried, only seconds after waking and having been so deeply asleep beforehand. Harry knew that he'd seen.  
  
“Nothing happened last night,” he said immediately. “I just didn't know what else to do. Normally I can get him to open up to me, it just takes time and a lot of asking the right questions. But nothing was working and he was so... weird. In the end I just told him to go to sleep and that I'd stay with him. There was nothing sexual. I just... I guess I thought about what I'd want, if that was me, and I gave him a cuddle. I'm sorry. It must have hurt finding me like that.”  
“It did,” Severus admitted. “But I understand.”  
  
Harry gave him a kiss. “I love you.”  
“I know.”  
  
Harry sniffed slightly and was overcome by a yawn. It was then that he heard a noise in the kitchen below and turned to look over his shoulder.  
  
“Must be Ron.” He realised then what must have woken him – the smell of cooking bacon. “Sounds like he's making breakfast. Come on.”  
“I'll... just be a minute,” Severus said. “Let me properly wake up before I have to interact with someone that isn't you.”  
  
Harry nodded and got out of bed. He found his dressing gown and threaded his arms into it, belting it tightly around his waist. He headed down the stairs and smelt more than bacon – brewing coffee, sausages, eggs, toast. As he entered the kitchen he saw Ron's thin form by the cooker. He heard him humming along to the radio.  
  
“Morning,” he called over the music.  
“Just,” Ron said. He had a strange, empty smile on his face.  
“Why the breakfast?” Harry asked, slouching over to the side and picking up the jug of coffee on the Muggle percolator that they'd charmed to withstand their magic.  
  
Ron didn't answer in all the time that it took Harry to pour a mugful and milk and sugar to the coffee. When he turned around Ron was plating up two huge breakfasts and putting them on the table.  
  
It still wore the tablecloth from the romantic meal the night before.  
  
“Is Severus awake?” Ron asked, turning and using magic to start clearing away all the pans he'd used to make breakfast.  
“For the most part,” Severus answered before Harry could.  
  
He stood uncomfortably in his own dressing gown, by the door.  
  
“I can go back upstairs, if you'd like?”  
  
Harry noticed then that there were only two plates on the table.  
  
“No, this is for you two. For letting me stay. I've got... I've got something to do, and I don't want to put you two out any longer. Thanks for the room. I appreciate it.”  
  
Ron picked up his jacket from the back of one of the chairs and put it on.  
  
Harry didn't want him to go.  
  
“I'll let myself out. Thanks for letting me stay.” He passed both of them and walked down the hallway.  
  
He was opening the front door, he was walking through it, and then the door was shut behind him.  
  
“Follow him,” Severus said immediately. “Harry, you have to follow him.”  
“What, why?”  
“If you let him walk away now, I don't think you're going to see him again.”  
“Severus-”  
“Go!” Severus shoved him into the hallway. “I'm not messing around Harry. This is serious.”  
“I'm not dressed.”  
“Do I have to go out there in my dressing gown myself?”  
  
Severus yanked open the front door and freezing February air swept in. “Ron! Wait!”  
  
Harry rushed to the threshold. Ron turned, his face a mask of agony – so different to the supposedly calm and composed man who had been in their kitchen just before.  
  
“Don't go,” Harry called faintly. “Come back, Ron.”  
  
 _-fin-_


End file.
